Beyond Transgression
by chocolatequeen
Summary: A unique look at ATY
1. Ingression

Title: Beyond Transgression, 1/10  
  
Author: Chocolatequeen  
  
Email: g_chocolatequeen@hotmail.com  
  
Disclaimer: If I owned it, That Which Was Suggested That Did Not Happen would never even have been suggested… I just keep telling myself his contract has been renewed, so there's nothing to worry about. And if it hasn't, take pity and don't tell me!!  
  
Rating:  
  
Archiving: Just ask  
  
Summary: The timeline for this story falls within ATY, and each section leads to the next. However, it is primarily a series of flashbacks and introspectives.  
  
"in·gres·sion ([pic]n-gr[pic]sh[pic][pic]n) A going in or entering. 2. Right or permission to enter. 3. A means or place of entering." (American Heritage Dictionary  
  
Chapter 1: Ingression (Sydney's POV)  
  
I can still hear Sark's voice ringing in my ear, and for the millionth time, I ask myself how I got into this. "This" being SD-6, the CIA, lying, putting my friends in danger… "this" being my life.  
  
I know what I told the FBI Tribunal about feeling like my life was going nowhere and wanting a purpose, but I wonder if that was the complete truth. Sometimes, I wonder if I was, in fact, born into this life, in the same way that a prince is born to be king. As the daughter of my parents, am I the heir apparent to the life of secrets and lies?  
  
Perhaps it was genetic—maybe scientists will someday discover the Spy Gene, the one which commits your mind to actions before your heart can fully understand what the ramifications will be, claiming it is all for the good of the nation. If this is the case, I hope they realize what a huge genetic flaw this is and work on a cure.  
  
But maybe it was just fate. Maybe this is the life I was supposed to live, and I was drawn into the web because I wanted to make a difference, to know that my life mattered in the bigger picture. All I know is that now, I desperately want to get out.  
  
As I prepare to meet Vaughn, I realize that I am getting myself into something entirely new. I've always been open and honest with him, but not this time. My friend's life depends on me keeping a secret from the one person who I try to tell everything.  
  
Even more than my father, he was there for me when I found out exactly what I had walked into at SD-6. My father told me what SD-6 is, Vaughn showed me. I'll never forget the knots in the pit of my stomach when I understood how far and deep it stretches and realized this wouldn't be a short mission.  
  
At that point, I wondered if I was in over my head. Was the life of a double agent too much for me to handle? These doubts still resurface from time to time, but each time, he has been there for me. He walked into SD-6 to save me, and he's saved my sanity too many times to count.  
  
And now I have to walk into our warehouse—the place that has always meant honesty between us—and lie to him. I don't want to do it, but it's the one chance I have to save Will. It's dangerous and risky, but this time I'm going in with my eyes wide open. 


	2. Congress

Title: Beyond Transgression, 2/10  
  
Author: Chocolatequeen  
  
Email: g_chocolatequeen@hotmail.com  
  
Disclaimer: ~Sigh~ I don't own any of it, not a bit.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Archiving: Just ask  
  
Summary: The timeline for this story falls within ATY, and each section leads to the next. However, it is primarily a series of flashbacks and introspectives.  
  
Congress: "The act of coming together or meeting" (American Heritage Dictionary)  
  
Chapter 2: Congress—Vaughn's POV  
  
This time when I pull up to the warehouse, she's already there. Bursting through the doors, I see her sitting on a crate, her head in her hands. "Sydney, I'm so sorry about this but there's no reason to assume the worst. They used tranquilizers on the security team, which means they weren't out for blood. If this is a kidnapping, they'll contact us," I reassure her as I pace the length of the room.  
  
I'm a little nervous to look at her, for fear of what her reaction is going to be. Sydney is such a take charge, gung ho person that I know it'll take me forever to talk her out of whatever she has planned. It was hard enough to convince her not to kill Khasinau before, but this is her friend. Sitting down, I brace myself and look her straight in the eye and find exactly what I was afraid of—the wild determination that is so much a part of who she is. This is why her next words take me by surprise.  
  
"I'm just so scared for him. You'll contact me if you hear anything?"  
  
She sounds… almost docile. I look at her a little closer and realize that this is completely countered by the fire in her eyes. But what concerns me the most is what I don't see. Always before I could see everything in her eyes, but today there is a wall there, as if she is saying "You can only know this much."  
  
"Vaughn," she says, a little confused by my scrutiny. But as I look in her eyes, I see a flash of vexation, as if she's afraid that I saw too much, and is upset with herself for hiding something.  
  
"What's going on?" I ask her, giving her a chance to level with me.  
  
"What do you mean?" she replies, almost innocently. She's hiding something all right.  
  
An hour later, I'm still contemplating what it could be. Unable to come up with anything, or maybe just not liking what I do come up with, I head for Eric's office. Even though he ripped into me last week for allowing my attachment to Sydney to affect my job performance, he's still my friend.  
  
Once again, I'm pacing while I think out loud. "I haven't known Sydney that long, but I feel like I have. Like I know her well enough to know that she doesn't just accept problems. She tries to fix them."  
  
"So, you think she'll try and get her friend back by using back channels?" he asks casually.  
  
Almost too casually. Suddenly, I'm on my guard, trying to remember if I've said anything that could be used against Sydney. "Maybe," reply carefully.  
  
"And why wouldn't she tell you?"  
  
"The safe house was compromised. She doesn't exactly trust the CIA right now. Would you?" The question is pointed, designed to reveal his true intentions.  
  
"Trust is a tricky thing," is his only response  
  
I feel a hole open in the pit of my stomach and my heart falls through it, straight to my shoes. "What does that mean?"  
  
Finally he shoots straight with me. "I think you need to fill Devlin in on what you've been thinking about Sydney."  
  
"Not a chance," I tell him tightly.  
  
"Michael—" he starts but I cut him off angrily.  
  
"What, fill him in on conjecture?"  
  
"I know this is a difficult time for you—" he tries again.  
  
I don't believe this. Is he actually saying…? "What are you saying?" I ask, giving him the benefit of the doubt.  
  
"Do not let your concern for Sydney get ahead—"  
  
Exasperated, I sigh and shove my hand through my hair. "Eric, that's not—"  
  
"—GET AHEAD of your responsibility to the Agency!"  
  
"That's not what I'm doing here!" I shout at him just before Haladki pokes his head in the door. For once, I'm glad to see the weasel, or I might say something I would later regret.  
  
That ended my "meeting" with Eric. I went straight to my office afterwards, and I've been here ever since, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. I know I haven't heard the last of this. But it's closing time now, and nothing has happened. For the first time all day I let myself take a deep breath. Walking down the hallway, I relish the relief of not being turned in. I step onto the elevator just in time to see my secretary come racing around the corner after me.  
  
"Agent Vaughn! I'm so glad I caught you!"  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Mr. Devlin wants to see you in his office right away," she answers, slightly out of breath.  
  
I'm not sure if the "thud!" is my heart hitting the floor, or the sound of that other shoe dropping. Either way, I know exactly what was going on. Turning around, I make my way into Devlin's office and take a seat next to Weiss.  
  
Looking around, I spy Haldki seated on the other side of the room. What in Hades is he doing here? "So, I'm confused. Why was I called in here?" I ask, playing it close to the vest.  
  
Devlin answers before anyone else can. "Mr. Weiss mentioned that you were suspicious of Sydney Bristow."  
  
Glancing over at Weiss, I toke a moment to think of the best way to undue the damage my loose tongue had done. "When I mentioned I was suspicious, I simply meant that Sydney seemed troubled," I say carefully.  
  
"But that isn't the word you used, is it?" Haladki questions.  
  
The weasel has always been resentful of my position in the SD-6 case, especially since my promotion came through. I'm fine with that, as long as he directs it at me. But when he aims it at Sydney… that's just too much. With measured calm, I answer, "What I said was I feel I have an understanding of Sydney Bristow and that she doesn't just accept problems, she tries to fix them."  
  
"And that perhaps Ms. Bristow and her father are trying to secure release of Mr. Tippin on their own?"  
  
That calm is fast disintegrating with every word that comes out of his mouth. "It was just a conversation. I have—"  
  
Finally Devlin cuts in. "Is it your opinion, Mr. Vaughn, that Ms. Bristow is hiding something from you? Hiding something from the Central Intelligence Agency?"  
  
Talk about cutting to the heart of the matter. As much as I don't want to answer the question, or don't like what the answer means, I have no choice. I shoot one last look of betrayal at Weiss, who studiously avoids my glance "Yes, sir," I tell him, knowing that I may have just signed Will Tippin's death warrant, as well as ended the careers of two fellow agents. Man, I hate these meetings. 


	3. Transgression

Title: Beyond Transgression, 3/10  
  
Author: Chocolatequeen  
  
Email: g_chocolatequeen@hotmail.com  
  
Disclaimer: See 'dis? I'm claiming I don't own 'er.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Archiving: Just ask  
  
Summary: The timeline for this story falls within ATY, and each section leads to the next. However, it is primarily a series of flashbacks and introspectives.  
  
Transgression: An action in which one moves beyond an accepted boundary or set rule.  
  
Chapter 3: Transgression—Weiss' POV  
  
Sometimes I don't like myself very much. I know that must be hard to believe, as self-assured as I come across, but it's true. We all have our moments, and boy did I have one today.  
  
Now in my defense, I thought I was doing the right thing. Vaughn left agent- handler protocol in the dust a long time ago, and someday that's going to come back to bite him. It almost happened last week in Denpasar, but I stepped in to save his neck. Afterwards though I let him know that I didn't want to be put in that position again.  
  
When he told me he thought Sydney would go out on her own, I knew it was something Devlin needed to hear. I tried to get him to go himself, but he wouldn't do it—just one more sign that he's way past "emotional attachment." I could see it all happening again, just like before. He'd go rushing off to save her and leave me holding the bag. I did what I had to do to keep Devlin from yelling at me.  
  
That must sound pretty self serving, but it isn't. Sure I didn't want to get reamed again, but that wasn't my only motive. Whatever Sydney has in mind can't be safe. I wasn't trying to betray my best friend, I was trying to save him. I was also trying to follow the CIA rulebook. I'm pretty sure there's something in there about clueing the director in to possible renegade agents. Sydney was going to break all the rules by going after Tippin on her own, and she needed to be stopped.  
  
So you see, I really did think I was doing what was best, for everyone. Vaughn and Sydney stay home, safe and sound. The CIA holds onto their investment in Sydney as a double agent. I don't get demoted to message boy for not telling Devlin what was going on. Everyone goes home happy.  
  
That one look from Vaughn changed my mind. When Devlin asked him straight up if he thought Sydney was going to do something, he shot me this look of complete betrayal. In that one moment, I realized that I had crossed the line. There comes a time when you have to set aside the black and white rules for the understood rules of friendship and loyalty, and I dropped the ball.  
  
What bothers me the most is what's happened now. He went with her. I don't have any confirmation of this, but I don't need any. We aren't friends for nothing; I know the way he works. He's willing to throw away the rulebook for her, and he did it tonight. I'm sure the romantics think this is so sweet, but in fact, he may have just tossed his entire career out the window.  
  
The funny thing is I don't think he cares. He is absolutely certain that he is doing the right thing, and I envy that about him. He understands that the CIA is not black and white, but he still lives in a black and white world. He takes the grey of the rulebook and fits into either one side or the other, depending on what it is up against. He judges the book by his standards instead of letting it become his standards.  
  
I know that doesn't sound like the way to do things, but it helps him sleep at night. He can live with himself because he has made his decisions based on his own values instead of protocol. When he sees a line drawn in the sand, he steps back and decides if it should be there or not first, before deciding whether or not to cross it. If where he needs to be for his own peace of mind is on the other side, he crosses it and doesn't look back.  
  
I guess that's the difference between him and I—I don't even realize there is a line until I'm 20 paces past it, and then I can't undo what I've done. I wish I hadn't crossed that line today. 


	4. Aggression

Title: Beyond Transgression, 4/9  
  
Author: Chocolatequeen  
  
Email: g_chocolatequeen@hotmail.com  
  
Disclaimer: Oh yes!! I own Alias!! And if you believe me, I've got a bridge I'd like to sell you.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Archiving: Just ask  
  
Summary: The timeline for this story falls within ATY, and each section leads to the next. However, it is primarily a series of flashbacks and introspectives.  
  
Aggression: technically, to go against. By definition, "1. The act of initiating hostilities or invasion. 2. The practice or habit of launching attacks. 3. Hostile or destructive behavior or actions." (The American Heritage Dictionary)  
  
Chapter 4: Aggression—Jack's POV  
  
I have spent a lifetime building an aura of hostility. To my friends and family, my "Don't mess with me" attitude seems cold and heartless at times, but in my work it is imperative. I took a slight tendency toward aggression and created a way of life.  
  
Note that I did not say violence. While my work often requires violence, I have not let it become a part of me as I have aggression. I do not simply act destructive, I am destructive. The difference is minute, but elemental. I imagine it is this difference that makes me a truly aggressive person. Instead of merely attacking, I have formed a habit of attacking. It is second nature to me, as natural as breathing.  
  
And that is why I'm prepared to do what I'm about to do. When I talked with Sydney, something Devlin had said clicked with me. He said Haladki was questioning how I knew about the circumference. Haladki is a lower level agent. He doesn't have the clearance to know about the circumference himself, much less to know if a senior agent possesses that knowledge. If he had any clue what the circumference was, it had to come from the outside.  
  
Haladki is the mole. That knowledge slammed into me and my automatic thought was keeping Sydney safe. This man had already given up her cover to The Man, he couldn't be trusted not to do worse. I sent her away, telling her to go somewhere safe.  
  
Then I came here. I've been waiting in the backseat of his car for almost 30 minutes now, but time is meaningless to me. Enough stake outs over the years have taught me the lesson of patience, now I use that lesson once again.  
  
My opportunity comes soon enough. The beep of the car alarm clues me into his presence, and my senses go on full alert. He opens the door and slides in, fitting the key into the ignition in one smooth action. Now is when I make my move.  
  
With the precision gained by years of practice, I grab him from behind and pull him into the backseat with me. "How the hell did you know about the circumference?" I whisper harshly as I shove the barrel of my gun against his throat.  
  
"You are out of your mind, you know that??" he replies with a sneer. In answer, I simply raise my gun and knock him out.  
  
Moving quickly, I get into the front seat and start the car. There's only one place where I can ask my questions and get the answers I need. I drive through the streets of LA at a moderate pace, unwilling to draw attention to myself by speeding. Besides, it's not like my passenger is going to be whining about how long it's taking.  
  
Ten minutes later and we're there: a small storage garage owned by the CIA. Stretching Haladki out on the table, I place his hands in the vices and then grab a spray bottle filled with vinegar and shoot him in the face. He awakes with a jolt and immediately screams. "Aughhh... dammit, my eyes! Ahhh! Oh, God!" He moves as if to wipe the sting out of his eyes and notices his hands aren't free.  
  
"How long have you worked for Khasinau?" I ask once I have his full attention.  
  
"You sick son of a bitch!!" he yells back.  
  
"Devlin said you mentioned the circumference."  
  
" I want to see you burn in hell, you hear me!?"  
  
"You don't have the clearance to know what that is."  
  
"You bastard!!"  
  
Completely unaffected by his epithets, I continue my questioning. "You must have learned about it from the outside."  
  
"You SON OF A BITCH!"  
  
Wrong answer. I tighten the vices and he screams again. Let's try this again. "Do you work for Khasinau?"  
  
"No!"  
  
Hm, more's the pity. Tightening the bolts once again, I hear the bones in his hands begin to crack, and he screams yet again. With a sigh, I realize they don't teach pain management like the used to. "Do you work for Khasinau?" I ask blandly.  
  
"You son of a bitch!!"  
  
One more time is all it should take. This time, the bones in his hands literally break and I have to force myself not to grimace at the sight.  
  
But the bones aren't the only things breaking. "YES!! I work for Khasinau, yes!" he finally admits.  
  
I feel a cold rage go through me at those words. I can't abide traitors, and this one betrayed my daughter in the process. Pressing my gun against his neck, I ask, "How long?"  
  
"Two years!" he pants, clearly in pain. Tough.  
  
"Why does Khasinau want the circumference?"  
  
" It's the key to something he's had built!"  
  
That doesn't sound good. "Something he's built. Tell me about it."  
  
"It's a battery! All I know is it's just a battery!"  
  
A battery? All this just to prove that he can top the Coppertop? "For what?" I ask.  
  
" I swear I don't know! Jack, Khasinau's the future!" Funny words from a man with a rather limited future.  
  
Pressing my gun a little tighter against his neck, I go for the crucial piece of information. "Where is this thing? This battery?"  
  
"It's in Taipei! The Fu Sing district, at a warehouse! Pang Pharmaceuticals! In an underground lab, in room forty-seven!"  
  
"You gave Khasinau the information about the safehouse."  
  
"Jack, this is a gift I'm giving you! Khasinau can save you! You should be with him!" Unbelievable. He's guilty of treason, bound to a table with both hands broken, and he's trying to get me to join him? I'd give him extra points for effort, if I cared.  
  
But he exposed the only thing I care about. "You told him that my daughter is a double agent with SD-6."  
  
"Jack, look at yourself—"  
  
My tight control on my emotions is slipping, and some of my rage seeps out. "You exposed Sydney!"  
  
"Come with me! I can save you! I can save you!" Those are his final words. Stepping away from him, I give him cold look before raising my gun and shooting him through the heart.  
  
Sometimes it pays to be aggressive. 


	5. Progression and Regression

Title: Beyond Transgression, 5/9 Author: Chocolatequeen Email: g_chocolatequeen@hotmail.com Disclaimer: Oh yes. I own Alias. I also own a very nice padded room, which you can share with me if you believe that. Rating: PG Archiving: Just ask Summary: The timeline for this story falls within ATY, and each section leads to the next. However, it is primarily a series of flashbacks and introspectives. Progression: "Movement from one member of a continuous series to the next." Regression: "Relapse to a less perfect or developed state." (both from the American Heritage Dictionary)  
  
Chapter 5: Progression/Regression-Vaughn's POV  
  
After more than two hours of fruitless searching, I've finally found her. As I quietly walk up behind her, I vaguely hear a voice over the loudspeaker announcing the next train, but my attention is focused on her. I sit down with my back toward her. "Hey."  
  
She looks over her shoulder casually and then faces forward again. "Hi. How did you find me?"  
  
I smile a little at the question, remembering how I spent the last two hours. "You told me a couple of months ago that when you feel the need to disappear, you go to the observatory. But the observatory was closed. And then I remembered you said the pier calms you down. But you weren't there. And you weren't at the bluffs and the palisades, either."  
  
I can tell by the set of her shoulders that I've surprised her. "You didn't really go to all those places," she says in a tone that begs me to tell her I did.  
  
I want to tell her that I'd go to the ends of the earth looking for her, but I can't. Instead I simply continue my litany as though she hadn't interrupted me. "Yeah, I did. And then I remembered you liked the train station, too. Normal people going to their normal jobs."  
  
She's smiling now, and I like knowing that I put that smile there. "I can't believe you remember that," she replies. Once again, I want to tell her so much-that I remember everything she says, that I wish she could have that normal life with a normal job-but I know I can't. I may not be able to be the impersonal handler that Weiss wants me to be, but even I can't let myself go that far down the forbidden path.  
  
But if I'm to stay on the straight and narrow, I have to change the subject now. "He's contacted you, hasn't he? Khasinau? And he wants the page. You're going to give it to him."  
  
"You came here to stop me," she says with tears in her eyes. No, that's not why I came, but I need to tell the story for her to understand that. "My father used to keep a diary and when I was a kid I used to say, "Hey, Dad, only girls keep diaries," and he'd just laugh." I pause for a moment, remembering all that I'd found in his journal-both the good and the bad-and then I carry on with my story.  
  
"He was a really good guy, my dad. Yeah. But he was too hard on himself. I mean, he was such a company guy that whenever he slipped up even in the slightest way he took it so personally. There were a few operations -- his last one among them -- that he questioned. Operations he refused to participate in. But only in his diary. He'd write out what he wanted to say to the CIA director. I mean, things he could never say in real life.  
  
"He was a company man, and I loved him very much. But it killed him, never questioning orders. His blind devotion to the job." With a deep breath, I take the final step. "If you're doing what I think you're doing, I'm in if you need me."  
  
"Thank you," she says simply.  
  
After that we just sit there in silence, both of us lost in thought. This was a huge step for me, for us, and she knows it. I told her that she is more important to me than my career, that as much as I love my job, I would give it all up if she asked me to.  
  
Briefly I wonder what Weiss would say about this. If he was to give me a progress report on the status of my "emotional attachment" to Sydney Bristow, where would he place me right now? Or to phrase the question more accurately, how many seconds would it take him to have both Devlin and Barnett on the phone, telling them that I was a liability to the Agency and advising them to take me off the case? I know what he would think; he would see it as a colossal step backward.  
  
Sometimes Weiss sounds like Yoda. "Once you start down the Dark Path, forever will it dominate your destiny." He keeps warning me away from Sydney, telling me that being more for her than just a handler is wrong and can only end badly.  
  
But I can't help but disagree. There are times when you have to choose between what is right, and what is expected. I could have sat aside while Jack and Sydney risked their lives and careers to save Will Tippin, but I never would have been able to live with myself. Faced with a moral dilemma, I took a step I'll never regret. 


	6. Digression

Title: Beyond Transgression, 6/9 Author: Chocolatequeen Email: g_chocolatequeen@hotmail.com Disclaimer: I will never never never own Alias. Rating: PG Summary: ATY through the eyes of the various players. Have I mentioned lately that this is for the CD challenge? No? Well, I guess the Transgression thing gives it away. Digression: Literally, to walk away. By definition, "To turn aside, especially from the main subject in writing or speaking; stray." (American Heritage Dictionary)  
  
Chapter Six: Digression-Sydney's POV  
  
From the moment I stepped on the plane, my mind has been wandering. I keep trying to focus on the task at hand, but it's no use. My thoughts will be on Will for a few minutes, but then they meander around like a lazy river, going nowhere and everywhere at once.  
  
With effort, I force my thoughts back to Will. Sweet, goofy Will who had no clue what he was getting into when he started this story, no clue why I didn't want answers about Danny's death. I don't know why he took it upon himself to get those answers for me if I didn't want them, but that doesn't matter right now. What does matter is that he couldn't walk away from the story when I asked him to, and now he's in danger because of it.  
  
I want to be angry with him. Why couldn't he have just left it alone? Was it too much to ask of his journalist nature to not investigate a story? If he had dropped the whole thing, Eloise Kurtz wouldn't have died, he wouldn't be in Taipei, and I wouldn't be sitting here right now, flying out to save his scrawny hide. That's plenty reason to be mad.  
  
But at the same time, I'm touched. After all, there aren't many people in my life who would go to the lengths he has just to make me happy. I know Vaughn is there to help me do the right thing and to believe in myself, and I'm slowly learning that my father does whatever he can to keep me safe, but Will did what he did simply to make me happy. No one has done that for me in a long time.  
  
I used to think that my mother did, but now I know that was just a lie. My mother. Finding her has become something of an obsession with me in the last few months. I wonder if Dad was right-what could she say that would make it better? She walked away from me, leaving me alone with a man who had been abandoned and misused in the most horrible way. There was no one there for me, and that is her fault.  
  
But what makes me the angriest is that her last act of leaving our family completely invalidates every other good thing she did for me. When I was little, I thought my mother was an angel and my father was a prince. Mom was always there for me, teaching me to make chocolate chip cookies, holding me when I cried after I broke my arm, singing me to sleep at night. She was the perfect mother, and then one day she just walked away and nothing has been the same since. My father nearly cracked under the pressure of the resulting investigation and our relationship is just now getting back to where we used to be. It's taken nearly 30 years to get back what she took away from me, but the memories she stole I are lost forever. I don't know if I can ever forgive her for that.  
  
What will happen if I see her again? Will she be the mother I remember, or will she hurt me like she did so many years ago? Will she leave me again, or will I be the one to walk away this time? I don't know the answer to these questions, and that's what I'm searching for even more than her.  
  
Until I find these answers, I will continue to be unable to focus on anything else. I know there are other loose ends right now: I'm still nervous that Dixon may turn my in to Security Section, but as Dad said the concern right now is Will. I have no clue what condition he'll be in when we get him out, so I need to be prepared to deal with anything. Then after we get home safe and sound I can worry about what to tell Dixon to keep him from reporting me. Of course I'll probably also have to explain to Devlin why I felt it necessary to steal CIA property to get my friend free, and I'd like to keep Vaughn from getting in trouble if at all possible.  
  
But as it has been for the last month, the situation with my mother is heaviest on my mind. I need to find the answers to all my questions before I can close that chapter of my life and walk on to whatever is next. 


	7. Egress

Title: Beyond Transgression, 7/9 Author: Chocolatequeen Email: g_chocolatequeen@hotmail.com Disclaimer: I do not now, nor will I ever own Alias Rating: PG Summary: ATY from the perspectives of different characters "Egress 1. The act of coming or going out; emergence. 2. The right to leave or go out: denied the refugees egress. 3. A path or opening for going out; an exit. (American Heritage Dictionary)  
  
Chapter 7: Egress-Jack's POV  
  
I froze for an instant when Will Tippin wrapped his arms around me. Then, almost in slow motion, I returned the hug. As I wait at the rendezvous point for Sydney and Vaughn to return, I find myself going over that one moment over and over in my mind.  
  
I have never seen someone so glad to be rescued. Everyone I work with is trained to get themselves out of situations like this, they don't expect to get rescued because they can take care of themselves-they have to. I've been in many situations were I knew there would be no rescue and I simply had to rely on myself.  
  
But here was an ordinary person in an extraordinary situation. He never signed up for the experiences he's had in the last week, and seeing his reaction to it all has driven one fact home: regular people don't have the ability to get out of irregular circumstances. They have to depend on the abilities and strengths of others to rescue them, because they can't do it themselves.  
  
In a way, it is yet another thing that drives home how far I am from being a normal person. Just look at where I am right now if you don't believe that-sitting in a rental car in Taipei, helping my daughter's friend. That sounds normal on the surface, but to get here I stole CIA property, killed an agent who was a mole for the other side, and risked losing the friendship and trust of one of my oldest friends. And Will Tippin. well, helping him wasn't simply a matter of loaning him some cash or getting him a job. He's been beaten, and by the look of him they subjected him to some emergency dental work before letting him go.  
  
I'm so deep into this life of secrecy and betrayal that I don't know if I can ever get out. A year ago, I didn't think I wanted to, but that was before I was offered another chance at a relationship with my daughter. She deserves a father who can be there for her in all ways, a father who doesn't have to keep himself emotionally distant to keep both her and himself safe. For the first time in a long time, I want out.  
  
But as I told Sydney months ago when she wanted the same thing, there is no way out. No way but to destroy SD-6 and the Alliance-only then can we be free to have our own lives. Now more than ever I live for the day when our job is done and we can walk away from the lies and deceit that have become a part of who we are.  
  
The sound of Will's voice breaks through my thoughts. "I know I've already thanked you for saving me. but thanks," he says almost shyly. "I never really figured you were the kind of guy to go out on a limb for someone like me."  
  
In response, I raise my eyebrow and say, "What kind of man do you think I am, Mr. Tippin?" There's a part of me that isn't sure I want to know the answer to that, but the rational side knows that he's still too nervous around me to say anything truly offensive.  
  
He flushes and stammers out a response. "I. I didn't mean it like that-I just meant that I know, well I imagine anyway that this isn't the normal way to handle situations like this, and I want to say that I appreciate the effort."  
  
"Appreciation acknowledged," I say with a curt nod, hoping that maybe he'll be quiet.  
  
No such luck. "And it's great that you got here so quickly. I mean, I don't know how many teeth I would have had left if you hadn't gotten here until tomorrow. Plus, my sister's birthday is tomorrow and I really wanted to be there."  
  
He rambles on about the party he was throwing and other meaningless things, but I have more important things on my mind. A glance at the clock confirms my suspicions: Sydney and Vaughn are late.  
  
They both know how important it is to make a rendezvous. If there had been any way they could have made it, they would have. The longer I sit here waiting for them, the more likely it is that Mr. Tippin and I will be found. Their tardiness is putting us all in danger, and they wouldn't do that purposely. Something, or rather someone, prevented them from leaving the club on schedule.  
  
Now I'm in an impossible situation. Agency policy says that I leave them here, the idea being that it is more important to get at least one agent out than to risk the entire operation on the chance that the other agents might survive. But this wasn't a regular op, and that isn't just any agent in there-it's my daughter. I can't just leave without trying to rescue her, even though I know that there may not be anyway out of this. for any of us. 


	8. Trangressive

Title: Beyond Transgression, 8/9 Author: Chocolatequeen Email: g_chocolatequeen@hotmail.com Disclaimer: I don't own Alias or any of the pieces and parts thereof. Rating: PG Summary: ATY from the perspectives of different characters Transgressive-1. Exceeding a limit or boundary, especially of social acceptability. 3. Of or relating to geological transgression (Webster)  
  
Chapter 8: Transgressive-Vaughn's POV  
  
I can hear the water rushing behind us, almost lapping at my heels as we turn the corner, racing against time trying to get away. Then I see the door, and I know I'm not going to make it. I've never been a runner but there's no use berating myself for that now. Ahead of me, Sydney slips through the door and tries to hold it open, but she's powerless against the mechanical force pulling it closed. It shuts with a resounding thud, leaving me on the other side. with the water.  
  
As I prepare for the force of the wave, a small, distanced part of my brain realizes that I'm witnessing first hand that moment when a body of water begins to overflow onto the surrounding land. Here, there are no dikes. There are no levies. It's just the water, and me, the land. No matter how hard I wrack my brain, I can't find a single way to prevent this. There's nothing around that could stop the water from reaching me, and there's no place I can run from it. I'm trapped.  
  
The interminable wait is suddenly over. Swelling behind me, the water and the power behind it slams me relentlessly into the door. I can feel the bump on my head form almost instantly, but I'm too concerned with my next breath to be too bothered by that.  
  
Opening my eyes, I look out the window and realize that Sydney is still there. What's she doing? She needs to get out of here! No, put down the fire extinguisher, don't worry about me! Syd, there's a guard coming up behind you-turn around!  
  
My lungs are starting to burn from the lack of oxygen, and suddenly I realize that I'm going to die. I know it sounds stupid that I'm just now realizing this, but drowning was not on my list of ways I thought I'd go. I always thought I'd die young-I guess having a father who was killed in the line of duty does that to you-but I never figured I'd drown.  
  
I've heard people say that during a near death experience, your entire life flashes before your eyes, and you see clearly all the things you should have done differently. To be honest, I never really believed it until now. Now I know they were right. In a second, everything I've ever done flashes through my brain and crystallizes into one thought: I never had a chance to explore the feelings I have for Sydney.  
  
My mind goes back over all the times when we were so close to that line-so close that by CIA definition, we were miles past it. It's hard to explain, but the CIA has strict rules for conduct between agents, especially agent and handler. Even giving her a Christmas present was against their rules. I'd hate to think what they would have said if they'd heard her say she was quitting and ask me out to a hockey game. What if they knew that I told her that even though I couldn't, I wanted to-that I wanted nothing more than to be able to be with her in public and look at her, and know that it wasn't putting her in any danger? Or what if they found out about the time I asked her if she was romantically interested in anyone, or when I suggested we go out to Trattoria di Nardi?  
  
Tratorria di Nardi. yet another opportunity lost. When we got back, we promised we'd go "Next time" even though we both knew there wasn't likely to be a next time. Just saying those words made it easier to hope that someday we would have normal life where we could be together. Now I'm dying, and I know that all our next times are dying with me, and I realize that it all boils down to this: I love Sydney and I never told her.  
  
A part of me regrets not having done so, now that I know I'll never have the chance, but I know that if I had, it would have put her life at risk. I'd rather die with her not knowing than watch her die because I couldn't handle not having her with me. Even now, this slow death is because I put her in front of myself. I knew it wouldn't be safe to go after her, but I did it because I love her and I was worried.  
  
All these thoughts go through my mind in less than a minute. As my vision fades to black, I see the guard surprise Sydney from behind and watch her lose the fight to him. I feel myself drift to the bottom of the hallway, and my last thought before I pass out is that she should have left-her life is more important than mine.  
  
Later, I have no idea how long, I wake up. Damp, groggy, and tied to a chair, I am disoriented for a moment. I thought the afterlife would have a little more sunshine. Then I hear a metallic scrape as the door swings open, and I realize that I'm alive-a prisoner, but alive.  
  
The shadowy figure of a woman steps into the room, and a voice made scratchy by years of delivering orders says "Well hello Mr. Vaughn. You are much more difficult to kill than your father was." 


	9. Trangressor

Title: Beyond Transgression, 9/9 Author: Chocolatequeen Email: g_chocolatequeen@hotmail.com Disclaimer: Alias and all its characters belong to JJ Abrams. Rating: PG Notes: For the CD May Challenge Archiving: Just ask Summary: The timeline is ATY. Technically, I don't think it's AU. However, I took the transgression thought and expanded on it, hence the title. Transgressor: one who infringes upon a law, command, or duty-one who violates or goes over a limit or boundary.  
  
Chapter 10: Transgressor-Laura Bristow/Irina Derevko  
  
From the shadows, I heard Alexander speak the words that were my entrance cue. "But I am not The Man." Stepping into the light, I let my daughter take a good look at me, and then I say, "I have waited almost thirty years for this."  
  
"Mom??" Her voice is weak, and I have to wince at the disbelief and confusion I hear. I can tell that this is going to take more work than I had thought, but I'm prepared, or so I tell myself.  
  
"Yes Sydney," I reply simply. She said she had questions, and I want to give her a chance to ask them before I tell her why I brought her here.  
  
"Mom. I don't understand. You're The Man?"  
  
"That's right." I allow my mouth to quirk up into a small, self-satisfied smile. "It's the perfect disguise, don't you think?"  
  
Ignoring my last statement, she moves straight to her first question. "You left me all alone."  
  
Though she worked hard to mask it, I heard the betrayal in the faint quiver of her voice. I have to fight against that if she was ever going to agree to my plan. "You had your father," I replied, but without conviction.  
  
She gave me a disparaging look. "You left me all alone," she repeated, with more force this time. "When you left, you took the part of him that made him my father with you. I had nothing, nothing but a nanny and memories. And now I find out that even the memories were just lies."  
  
"That's not completely true," I counter. "Would you say that you are less of a friend to Will just because you are also a spy? I was just as much your mother as you always thought I was, I just happened to have a job as well."  
  
She reels back as if she were slapped. "Don't! Don't try to make it sound like I am the same as you. I am nothing like you!!" Taking a deep breath, she calms down a little, but then her eyes narrow and she looks at me accusingly. "What happened to Vaughn?" she demands.  
  
Inwardly I sigh. So like her father, always more concerned for other people than for herself. Someday, that's going to get her killed, unless I can retrain her before it's too late. This may be the perfect time to start. "He's dead," I lie. In fact, he is sitting two doors down, drying out while we wait to question him, suffering nothing more than a broken wrist. But if Sydney thinks that he is dead-her strongest tie to the CIA, destroyed-then she might be more easily broken.  
  
Her eyes were always so expressive. I remember when she was a child, I could always tell if she was lying to me just by looking in her eyes. Now I watch those same eyes darken in anger then slide shut in pain. "No, I won't believe it," she whispers to herself.  
  
"Whether you believe it or not, it is still true Sydney."  
  
Her eyes snap open and she stares at me with a look I never expected to see from her: pure, detached, disgust; as if I were too little a person to get wound up over. This is yet another thing she learned from her father.  
  
For the first time I am uncertain as to the success of my plan. Trying to get back on solid footing, I turn her attention back to what she needed from me. Hopefully this will put me back in control. "Did you have any other questions?"  
  
She regards me silently for a moment, and I find her unemotional gaze unnerving. But finally she opens her mouth, and the first question spills out. "Why?" she asks simply.  
  
The slight vulnerability in her eyes now gives me a small measure of control. "Because I had to Sydney. Do you think it was easy for me to leave my only child? That first night alone I missed you so much. I tried not to think about how much you must be missing me tucking you in at night and reading you bedtime stories. When I arrived in Memphis, Nebraska later that week the small corner grocery store reminded me of the little general store in London, KY. Do you remember when we would go to the annual chicken festival there? The four hours I spent in Paris, TX made me think about how you always dreamed of going to Paris and seeing the Eiffel Tower, and I knew that I wouldn't be there to see you realize that dream or any other. It hurt, but I had to do it."  
  
She shook her head impatiently. "No, that's not what I meant. Why did you kill all those people? Vaughn and his father both, all the other agents. didn't you think about the fact that they are people with families? That maybe somewhere those men and women had children who would miss their parents as much as your daughter missed you? What made you feel like you could make the decision for them to forsake their families as your forsook yours? To put it bluntly, Mom, who died and made you God??"  
  
"Sydney, you don't understand." I started to explain.  
  
"You're right, I don't," she cut in. "And I never will. Dad was right. There is nothing you can say, no explanation you can give that will satisfy all the hurt and questions."  
  
"Sydney, let me try."  
  
"No. If I do, you'll just try to confuse the issue, but in truth it's pretty straightforward. You married Dad for his contacts. You used him. I was just a part of the bargain. If you ever had any feelings for me at all, even those were second to your loyalty to the KGB, because when it came down to a choice, you chose them. You killed the father of the man I. of one of my closest friends, and now you've killed him too. Those are the facts, I don't need to know anything more." So saying, she turned away from me to face the wall.  
  
After staring at her back for a few moments, I stepped quietly into the hallway. Closing the door behind me, I looked in the window one last time, finding myself shocked by the turn of events. I always thought that someday my daughter and I would meet again, and nothing would be changed. I had this vision in my head of us taking on the world together, and winning. In my heart, I thought she would still love me with the same innocent childlike love I threw away so carelessly when I left years ago. Now I realize the truth: Nothing can ever be the same again. Sometimes, the truth hurts.  
  
AN: So there it is, my wild ride through etymology and personal motivation. If you didn't catch it, the root of the word transgression is ghredh, which means to walk or to go. Therefore, all the words used as chapter titles are specific types of movement-transgression being to walk against, etc.  
  
I'm sorry it took me so long to finish uploading this. I didn't realize it wasn't complete until this last week. 


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